


The Book of Seth

by ahimsabitches



Category: Hellbenders (2012)
Genre: Demons, Gen, Monsters, blep, lots of swearing, tongue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:51:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7535260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahimsabitches/pseuds/ahimsabitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a mix-mash of a few different verses, including an original verse of mine. Seth and Dolly and Aoife and Zavulon belong to me. Nura belongs to Canis-exmachina (on Tumblr and AO3. Willow is a friend's OC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book of Seth

Aoife looked at the sticky note. Looked up at the building number. Aye, a match. But she didn’t detect any demonic activity.

A small noise that could have been a child or an animal drew her around to the shaded, weed-choked alley between this building and the next. Aoife let out a strangled cry and stumbled back, heart and stomach somersaulting over each other.

“It’s okay,” the little girl crouched between the two monsters said. “They won’t hurt you unless you hurt me.”

One monster was pink and mottled and sleek, with horrible long fingers and plush thick lips. One monster was black, marked with electric blue, and looked like the abortive spawn of a hammerhead shark, a slug, and a mushroom. Neither had eyes.

Aoife fumbled in the folds of her cassock with numb, skittering fingers for crucifix and holy water, lining the rites up behind her lips.

“They’re not demons,” the little girl said, finally looking at her. She stood and dusted off the threadbare shirt that Aoife had taken for a dress at first. It was faded black and down to the girl’s knees and Aoife barely recognized the screenprinted ghost of Alice Cooper on the front. The girl was right. Whatever these things were, they weren’t demonic.

But what the fuck _were they_?

Aoife dropped her hands, her mind spinning and her heart hammering like a piston. “What’s yer name?”

“Seth.” The girl’s eyes were huge and dark, deep purple halfmoons below them, making her pale face look downright skeletal. Her lank brown hair didn’t help. “What’s yours?”

“Aoife.”

“You’re from Scotland?”

“Ireland. By way of Boston.”

“I’m from my mom. By way of Chicago.”

“And them?” Aoife tipped her chin up at the… _creatures_ behind Seth, who were, Aoife guessed, looking at them. How could they sense where anything was, with no eyes and no noses she could see?

Seth glanced back, shrugged. “Dunno where they’re from. They come and go.”

“Can everyone see ‘em like I can?”

Seth shrugged again, her mouth quirking. “I guess if they’re trying.”

“What were ye doin’?”

“Burying my guinea pig. He died this morning.”

“I’m sorry.” A beat. “He wasn’t possessed, was he?”

Seth smiled and coughed a weak giggle. “No.” Another beat. “You’re looking for demons.”

Aoife nodded. “Er, me boss told me there was a possessed person here.”

“Well it’s not _me_.”

Aoife peered at the girl. The big shirt lay on her pale, bony frame like a burlap sack. No demons in her, but there was something. A deepness. Not empty. Like a well that could, and had, been full, but was not now. She looked hard at the creatures squatting on their hunkers behind the girl. They rose and approached her. Aoife gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to step back.

“This is Dolly,” Seth said, indicating the slim pink one. The creature was naked, with small tits and a hairless vagina. Its— _her_ —head was merely a small hill risen from her shoulders, in the middle of which her lips sat like two flower petals. “And this is Nura,” Seth waved her hand at the iridescent black mushroom-slug thing, with thick tentacled arms and strings of drool dripping from its wedge-shaped head The creature didn’t have a vagina or a penis. Or anything except blue-clawed fingers on the ends of its tentacles and thickslick purple things on its head that Aoife could only call lips. “Dolly, Nura, this is Aoife.”

“Hello, Aoife,” Dolly said. Her voice was deep and rich.

Nura waved their tentacle.

Aoife raised her hand in an incredulous salute. “Er. Hi.” Faceless, eyeless, headless _demons_ were one thing. But these things were somehow harder to look at. Maybe because they _weren’t_ evil. Dolly was easier. At least she had a normal—ish—head. “I suppose neither of ye’ve seen any demons or possessed people ‘round here?”

Nura cocked their shark-mushroom head. Dolly licked her lips.

“How long have you been an exorcist?” Seth asked.

“About five years.”

“Hm,” Seth said.

“So…no demons ‘round here, then.”

Seth glanced over Aoife’s left shoulder; cocked an eyebrow at her. The expression on her face was an old woman’s: _You know better, child._

“Who _are_ you?” Aoife asked, acutely aware of Zavulon smiling behind her.

“ _Jeeezus_ pisschristing _fuck_ what _are_ those things?”

Aoife spun. Angus was riffling in his robes just as she had, disgust curling his lip. She held up her hands in a double-stop gesture. “Angus! It’s all right. They’re not demons. They won’t hurt us.”

“I don’t give a _fuck_ what they are; they need to get the _fuck_ away from that little girl!” Angus stepped forward, switchblade in one hand, holy water in the other. Nura and Dolly stiffened and stepped between Seth and the two Saints. As a wave of savage anger hit Aoife from the two creatures like a spiny wall, she understood that Dolly and Nura were not evil but they did not have morality or anything _resembling_ an internal stop on the impulse to kill. Aoife’s heart dumped a shot of adrenaline through her. She braced against Angus, hands on his chest.

“No, _don’t_! They’re _protecting_ her, ye great fool!”

Angus glowered at her from under the greasy grey fringe of his hair. Glanced up at Dolly and Nura. His eyes went wide. “Holy _fuck_ ,” he said. Aoife turned.

Nura’s— _mouth??_ —gaped wide below the arrowpoint of their head. But it was not a mouth; it was a writhing purple mass of toothlike hooks, undulating gently as if in an ocean current. There was an opening above the mass of hooks, flaps like a voicebox, that pulsed open and closed lazily.

Seth nosed forward between them, giving Nura’s tentacle-arm a gentle squeeze. “Ever seen a snail’s mouth?” She asked conversationally. “It’s called a radula. That’s what Nura has too. Instead of chewing, they rasp their food into tiny little bits. Like sandpaper that kills you.”

The bottom of Aoife’s mind warred

( _run away kill it run away kill it run away kill it)_

with itself. The rest buzzed with helpless grey static.

“Okay, what the _fuck’d_ you put in my beer, you cocksucking cunt?” Angus barked, pulling away from her touch.

Unable to rip her eyes away from Nura’s lurid purple-black maw despite her own anger, she said, “The same thing I apparently put in mine, y’witless feckin’ twonk.”

“I thought priests weren’t allowed to cuss,” Seth said.

“We’re a special kind of priest,” Aoife said.

“Yeah, the kind that wipes these _shitstains_ off the fuckin’ _sidewalk_ ,” Angus growled and lunged forward again.

Three things happened at once: Dolly and Nura shoved Seth behind them again; Dolly opened her mouth; Aoife spun Angus’ arm behind him and jerked it upwards. The switchblade fell from his hand. He yelled hoarsely. “Ow! _Leggo_ , you fuckin’ bitch!”

“The kind that has demons, you mean,” Seth said without malice.

Aoife blinked. First at Seth, then at _Dolly_. Her mouth wasn’t a rasping mass of hooks but a pink-throated _hole_ , toothless and slimy and ringed with tongues curling and squirming like fat, squat tentacles. A wetly clicking gurgle issued from her throat, pulsing in want of something to swallow.

_I’m on a bad trip this is a REALLY bad trip oh dear Mary mother of God Zavulon’s fucking with me somehow saints preserve us hailmaryfullagrace_

_This isn’t me, honey. But I’m taking notes, believe me._

Zavulon didn’t speak directly to her often, but when he did, his voice was cold and black like seafloor sand and hot and white like the electric chair and he leaned close to her and the piece of _shit_ scraped up from the sewers of hell _goosed_ her with a cold/hot finger. She yelped and released Angus’ arm.

“Fuckin’ _shit_!” Angus barked.

Aoife kept herself between Angus and the two creatures, her mind suddenly clear and her heart steady.

 _You can’t say I never did anything for you, darling,_ Zavulon said.

_Fuck off, you cocksucking hellwhore._

_Angus is rubbing off on you, sweetheart._

“Listen. Dolly. Nura. We won’t hurt Seth. Or either of ye. Angus.” She glared at him, nursing his tweaked shoulder. “They’re not demons, and they’re not here t’hurt anyone, unless y’keep insistin’ on bein’ an ignorant fucktrumpet. All right?” Like a spectator at a tennis match, she glanced between Angus, scowling, and the two creatures that topped them both, making no expression at all except for their wide-open mouths. “Truce?”

“Sandpaper that kills you,” Seth reminded them from behind Nura. “Also, Dolly’s really not picky about whether her meat’s alive or dead when she eats it.”

Angus straightened, sighed. “That’s fuckin’ disgusting.”

Dolly’s mouth irised closed, her tongues folding neatly back into her mouth like a flower folding in for the night. Nura lowered their head, tucking the rasping radula back into themself. Aoife let out the breath she was holding.

Seth stepped forward again, her oilslick eyes pinioning Aoife. “So did you pick up Zavulon before or after you became a priest?” she asked softly.

A bolt of blue, cold terror lanced through Aoife’s mind and she shook her head at Seth in a single sideways jerk. But Seth glanced at Angus behind her with a soft smile. Aoife turned and Angus and Nura stood nose-to-wedgehead, disgust and confusion warring on Angus’s scruffy face. He leaned back as Nura leaned forward and grunted as Nura placed their radula gently on his right cheek. The rasp worked slowly, delicately, and Angus’s fists clenched.

Seth giggled. “That means they like you.”

“If this fuckin’ thing doesn’t get the _hell_ off me in five seconds I’m gonna jam everything in my pockets into its fuckin’ _face_.”

“Sure, if you want them to take your whole arm too,” Seth said, the smile on her face small but genuine. She looked much less haunted, and Aoife wondered what Nura and Dolly were protecting her from.

Nura completed their work and stepped back. Angus jabbed a finger at them. “Don’t fuckin’ do that again, you fuckin’ freak.”

“Oh be _nice_ , ye howlin’ bollix,” Aoife said. “They’re not s’bad once y’get used to ‘em.” She glanced at Dolly, who licked her lips, just a dart of tongue. _Blep_ , Aoife thought, and smiled.

Angus whirled on Aoife. “I blame you for this shit, you goddamn twat! We’re supposed to be yanking a fuckin’ demon out of somebody! Where the fuck is the demon, huh?”

Aoife blinked at Angus. A perfectly round fist-sized patch of hairless skin, red and razorburned, stood out from the two-month silver growth of Angus’ beard.

Seth covered a snorted laugh with her hand.

“What.” Angus asked flatly.

Aoife’s raucous laughter scattered the birds roosting on the eaves the buildings overhead. She bent double, arms wrapped around her gut, which didn’t take long to cramp. It was all she could do to get words out around the laughter that felt like the world’s funniest _grand mal_ seizure. “Oh m’feckin’ _god_ , Angus, ye—ahahahahahaha—oh I wish we had a _mirror_! Hahahahaha! Y’should see yer feckin’ _face_! Hahahahahaha! _Nura_! Y’missed a spot, love! Aaahhahahaha!”

Angus’s hand flew up to the place where Nura had rasped him, and a wave of consternation twisted his face. “You mother _fuck_ , what did you _do_ to me?” He roared at Nura, who stood sedately and cocked their head.

“Made ye _pretty’s_ what they did,” Aoife said around fresh gales of cackles. She leaned on Angus’s chest, unable to stand up straight, and got a vicious backward shove and a hearty “Fuck your fuckin’ shit” which in no way stopped her laughter. She rolled onto her back, a priest in a formal black cassock and vestments, kicking her legs like a child. After a few minutes, she rose shakily and wiped tears from her eyes, paused, remembered something, and fell back again. “ _Wait’llWillowseesyeshe’llhavefiftyfitsnfallinemhahahahaahahahahaaaa!”_

“Maybe you oughtta clean him up the rest of the way,” Seth said to Nura.

“ _Fuck_ no!” Angus said, clapping a hand to his cheek and backing up like a trapped animal. “You stay the _fuck_ away from me!”

Aoife wheezed to her feet, stumbled a little. Her head buzzed and fuzzed, but with something infinitely more _pleasurable_ this time. “I haven’t laughed like that in _years_ , heh. Angus, wh–” she turned, but the alley was devoid of him.

“He left while you were laughing,” Seth said.

Aoife giggled at the image of him sulking down the street with a great hole in his beard. “Which way’d he turn?”

Seth pointed right. Back to the house, then.

“Thanks.” Aoife turned, took a step. A gentle, sorrowful hand squeezed the mirth from her heart. She turned back and dropped to her knees in front of Seth. “All jokes aside, y’okay, Seth?”

Seth’s smile faded. When it returned, it was smaller and sadder. “I’m not the Hellbound priest with Baal’s favorite following me around.”

Aoife knew she should be surprised, but the only thing that came to her was slow, cool melancholy. She sighed. Glanced up at Dolly and Nura. “Y’take care of her, aye?”

They both nodded. Aoife stood, cringing as her sore sides twanged, and shook Dolly’s long spidery fingers and Nura’s tentacled digits. “Come by th’ house sometime n’ give Angus a coronary,” Aoife said with a grin. Nura did not seem to have a mouth capable of smiling, but Dolly’s flower-petal lips grew tiny upward points and Seth cocked a sad half-smile.

Aoife caught up with Angus as he rounded the corner to the house, grinning despite the lingering sorrow in her.

 _“Wills, come see yer hus-_ -,” she bellowed as soon as they were in the door. Angus cut her off by clamping one hand over her mouth and the other across the back of her head.

“Shut the _fuck_ up or I will _curbstomp_ your goddamn paddy ass,” Angus growled.

“Aoife? Angus? You’re back already?” Willow’s high sweet chirp preceded her around the hall corner. For a moment, the three were silent: Aoife forcefully so, her green eyes bright and gleeful above Angus’s hand; Willow blinking owlishly at Angus, her hands hidden in Angus’s sweater sleeves halfway to her mouth; Angus’s face thunderous and diverted from Willow’s eyes. Aoife reached up and pawed at his chin to give Willow a glimpse of Nura’s handiwork. She gasped.

“Angus, what _happened_?!”

Aoife giggled and made absolutely no effort to wriggle out of Angus’s grasp. Getting no answer from Angus, Willow looked to Aoife. She winked and gave Willow a double thumbs up: everyone’s okay.

Willow relaxed a little and, after a few of Angus’s futile attempts to keep his face away from her, he let her smooth a small, graceful hand over the bald spot on his cheek. The rest of the house, drawn by the noise, peeked around corners and out of doors. Aoife, her head still clamped in the vise of Angus’s hands, waved cheerily at them.  Beside her, Willow stood up on tiptoes and pecked Angus’s bare cheek. “I’m glad you’re making friends,” she said.


End file.
